the wedding

After a long car ride full of moments of anxiety caused by my overflowing cup (the risk of something popping out was worth it), I arrive at a quaint farm-type house in the middle of nearly-nowhere. Surrounded by people I have never met before, electro-mom-atism kicks in and I cling to Mum & Co. and wonder how I got suckered into coming to this thing (oh yeah, the promise of hot cousins at my table). Gossip raped the conversations amongst the groups, reminding me that high school is not the end, but just the beginning. I stood there with my heels in the gravel and let my mind wander until the ceremony began. Now I've been to only one other wedding in my time that I can recall, and being a Catholic wedding, it was not the most pleasant thing for an eight year-old to endure. So it was a huge relief to me when, fifteen minutes later, the ceremony is over and we're off to give support to the newlyweds before sitting down to dinner. Making sure to adjust my cleavage (low: check) moments before, I finally take a chair at a table full of guests who all look around their early twenties (other than two of my table compadres who were married and awesome) who, apparently, are all related. *Prior Conversation* Captain Mum: They were all asking who you are and if they were related to you. Captain: Really, now. Captain Mum: Yeah, I told them that you weren't and they said, "Good!" *End of Prior Conversation* I doubt I'll find out who actually was involved in that conversation, but that's besides the point. Someone I barely knew was somewhat interested in me, and that's one hell of an ego-boost if you ask me. Not too far after the introductions, a classic red solo cup is placed in front of me by a mysterious (and generous) hand. I look up and it's one of my mum's friends, winking at me and returning to his seat. I ask him what it is and he tells me it's a vodka and cranberry. With this knowledge, I quickly down the drink with a satisfied smile. Not even six o'clock and I've already charmed myself into a free drink! (no) The night finally starts to look sunny. The oxymoron, however, does not. Two cups of rye and coke later and dinner is served. I thank the gods for the meal that would allow me to prevent myself from binge drinking and nom away, taking the time to give my table-mates a quick analysis. To my immediate left is an interesting fellow who strikes up conversations with me and I almost immediately like. To his left is his awesome wife who I would want to babysit my future kids. To her left is a fellow who looks strangely familiar, and to his left (and right across from me) is a blonde fellow with an infectious smile, to his left is a quiet asian fellow, to his left is an adorable asian girl and to her left is another quiet asian fellow. Thus, completes the circle of outsiders. Anyway, so I play the shy-but-interesting card by only telling grand stories when prodded, which ends up being not that often, so I wait until I have a few more drinks in me before I break the awkward barrier. I notice the blonde fellow across from me is making eye contact... ...and hours later we are outside, sitting in lawn chairs as he's trying to teach me guitar riffs (note to self: thank past-captain for being so resourceful). Considering I was telling him the benefits of being able to play WoW with only one hand (if you know what I mean) and he STILL asked for my number... I think if we meet up again, shit might go down.

To be continued, please, for the love of god.

EDIT: Shit did not go down. This is for the best.

Still, it made for a good story.